Discretion
by Joan Powers
Summary: The discovery of one of their own in peril prompts an intense investigation, which reveals much more than the CSI team anticipates. GS romance Ch 8 Is posted. STORY COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Discretion

By Joan Powers

**A/N:** I've been sitting on this story for over a year now, it's actually the first CSI piece I ever wrote. It was easy to start but a royal pain in the neck to finish. It's a little different than what I usually write. Believe it or not, this how I think TPTB would show a G/S love story, subtly done as a CSI case file, complete with gory disgusting details. For a change, I'll be posting a short excerpt everyday until the story is competed. Special thanks to smryczko, Ms.Grits, and Eileen for their constructive comments.

**Type:** Suspense, G/S romance

**Summary:** The discovery of one of their own in peril prompts an intense investigation, which reveals much more than the CSI team anticipates.

**Timeline:** Post Bloodlines yet prior to Season 5

**Rating:** PG-13

Catherine Willows pulled her Denali adjacent to the convenience store and swiftly found a place to park. She muffled a yawn as she stashed her keys in her pocket, clipped her cell phone on to her belt, and then grabbed her equipment from the trunk of her vehicle. She sighed.

_It's too damn late for this. It's practically five thirty a.m._

Her shift was supposed to have been over in just thirty minutes. Guiltily, she'd been watching the clock, looking forward to possibly having breakfast with her daughter. But now, it looked as if she was going to be working much longer. Oh well, she could use the overtime pay.

And Lindsay would be okay at the neighbors for breakfast then getting to the school bus. A set of phone calls while driving here had set all that in motion. Childcare was always a hassle for a single mom, and this type of job with its unpredictable hours made it all the more challenging.

Still, she enjoyed what she did. She loved the thrill of solving the crimes and helping to put the bad guys away in jail. She especially liked the feeling that what she did was important and that it made a difference in other people's lives.

Warrick was already at the scene, speaking with some uniformed policeman. When he caught sight of her, he sauntered towards her and smiled warmly as he greeted her. "Good morning sunshine."

Catherine laughed ruefully.

"Tell me, how did _we_ end up getting this call?" Warrick stifled a yawn. He too had been anxious to duck out just a little early. He'd just been dropping off some paperwork at the station when he was paged.

"Just lucky I guess," Catherine shrugged. "It figures that Grissom's on vacation." Occasionally he would switch calls with her so she could better juggle her childcare arrangements.

"Vacation?" Warrick's features registered surprise. " I didn't think he knew what the word meant."

"I didn't think so either."

Back to business, Catherine assessed the crime scene. Yellow tape marked off the convenience store parking lot and adjacent area. "So, where's the body?"

"Behind the store next to the dumpster. The garbage men called it in." The driver of the truck was off to the side of the store, speaking with the uniformed policeman on the scene.

"I'm impressed. They don't come to my neighborhood this early," Catherine joked wryly.

"In this heat? I think that would be a motivating factor." Warrick gestured to the noticeably pale stocky man who'd just emerged from the cluster of police and emergency vehicles. "Can you show us where you found the body?"

The man nodded.

As they walked through the asphalt parking lot, they passed the rest rooms then rounded the corner to the alley at back of the store. A large dumpster overflowing with trash greeted them.

Catherine nearly gagged. "I'm glad I didn't eat before I came here." She'd lost her appetite for breakfast and possibly lunch as well.

"Look at the size of those flies." Warrick swatted some as he took broader steps to approach a heap of trash, which was next to the dumpster. It was partially covered with a ragged blanket. The garbage collector pointed towards human fingers that were peaking past the edge of the blanket.

"Can I go now?" he pleaded. He looked as if he was going to be sick again.

"Did you touch _anything_?" Warrick asked.

"I might've bumped into 'it' while talking to Frank. I was just tryin' to do my job. Believe me, the minute I saw those fingers, I got the hell away from here," he stammered and swallowed uncomfortably.

"Check in with the uniformed officers out front to see if they need any additional information," Catherine advised him as he bolted. Then she and Warrick focused their attention on the body.

"What do we have here?" He half-whispered. Catherine quickly snapped some pictures of the concealed body as he examined the scene.

"Do you think someone was trying to heave the vic into the dumpster and missed?" he wondered.

Catherine considered it briefly. "No, the dumpster's too full. This baby hasn't been emptied in a long time. And to lift a body that high would've taken a lot of strength. The fact the vic was simply dumped on a pile of trash and only partially covered with a blanket indicates that they did a pretty sloppy job. Guess they were in a hurry."

"Nobody takes pride in their work their work anymore," Warrick mused. He put on his latex gloves and cautiously removed part of the blanket, which covered the victim. The body appeared to belong to a dark haired female possibly in her late twenties or thirties. He tried to wave the flies away from her body; they were attracted to the blood. She was hunched over, lying on her stomach. There was a small pool of blood beneath her face.

This part was never easy. But something didn't seem quite right to him. Wait a minute. Did he just see her back slightly rise then fall?

Warrick froze. "Oh my God, she's still breathing. Get the medics!"

The paramedics quickly raced over.

"Can you help me turn her over?" the EMT asked Warrick. He agreed to assist. "Careful, we don't want to aggravate any internal injuries." The men gently turned the woman onto her back and placed her on to a stretcher. She was taking shallow breaths, obviously in pain.

"Can you hear me?" Warrick futilely asked. He quickly documented her condition as the EMT did what he could. The victim's clothing was intact, though bloody. She was wearing khaki Capri pants and what was once a rose colored tie-dyed T-shirt. With a sickening twist in his stomach, he noted that the pants were noticeably bloody in the crotch.

Most horrifying was her face. It was terribly swollen: her nose was off center. Blood was splattered heavily on her face and T-shirt. Bruises were starting to form on her right check and temple.

"What happened to you?" he thought aloud.

Then his heart nearly skipped a beat as he bent closer to examine her misshapen face.

_No, it can't be. It just can't. _

He swallowed hard as bile rose in his throat. For the person he was looking at was Sara Sidle.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Great to hear from all of you! Hope you like the next installment.

Chapter 2

A doctor wearing green scrubs stepped through the doors of the ER, "Crime lab?" Nick and Greg rose from their seats. "She's unconscious but come in and I'll tell you what I can."

The men followed him into the treatment alcove where Sara was lying, unconscious, on a hospital bed. An IV drip was hooked up to her left arm. The bruises on the right side of her badly swollen face had deepened to dark purple and black. Gauze bandages covered her misshapen nose.

"So, what are her injuries?" Nick asked, trying hard to remain professional as his eyes lingered on Sara. This was the first time he'd seen her as the victim. Greg hung in the background, equally disturbed by Sara's appearance.

The doctor explained, "Best we can guess is that she was hit in the face. Hard. Most likely a pretty solid object rather than a fist or bottle. A fist alone wouldn't have caused that much damage and a bottle most likely would've shattered producing multiple lacerations."

He went on to discuss her injuries, "Her nose is broken. That probably accounts for the majority of the blood on her upper body. Fortunately, her skull wasn't fractured. She lost a tooth and she also has some badly bruised ribs."

Nick hated considering the possibility but he had to follow procedure. "Did you do a rape kit?"

"Yes, only a few minutes ago, we sent it down to your lab for analysis."

Although he dreaded the results, Nick faced the doctor squarely. "Is there…is there any indication that she was raped?"

The doctor was able to confidently respond. "No. Her pants were bloody but intact. We believe she recently had intercourse due to slight bruising on her vagina, but it was consensual contact. There's no sign of any damage or trauma."

Nick was relieved but confused. "What about all the blood?" Warrick had relayed that information to him with a heavy heart; he'd mentioned significant bleeding.

The doctor seemed a bit uncomfortable. "She had her period."

"Yeah?" Nick wasn't following.

Re-adopting his clinical demeanor, the doctor explained. "Apparently she has a pretty heavy flow during her menstrual cycle. The tampon we removed from her was completely saturated. The rest of the blood had to go somewhere so it simply seeped around the blockage. Over several hours, there was significant accumulation."

_Not a pretty picture._

Nick continued, "I presume you sent samples to the lab to analyze for semen."

"Of course, although with such a heavy flow of blood, a significant quantity may've been flushed out of her system," the doctor added.

"Oh." More details than he really wanted to know, but it was a satisfactory answer to the question. Nick was somewhat relieved; at least Sara may've been spared that indignity.

Quickly trying to change the subject, Greg asked, "How long will she be unconscious?"

The doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably, "It's hard to say. She could just have a concussion. Or there could be some trauma. It's promising that her basic bodily systems are functioning normally. I don't know about her speech or memory. It's too early to say. We'll know more when she comes to, which could be in five minutes or five days."

"Notify us the minute she does. We need to examine her personal effects and clothing," Nick stated. The doctor handed them a bag. "We'll have them back after we check them out in the lab." He turned to Greg, "Let's get to the scene, Warrick and Catherine are going to need help."

XXXXXXXX

"Can you do this case?" Detective Jim Brass asked Catherine.

At midmorning, as Catherine suspected, they were still at the convenience store processing the crime scene. She and Warrick had discovered and swabbed blood flecks near the bathroom leading to the alley. An empty roll of duct tape was found in one of the parking spaces. A scouting of the perimeter had yielded nothing else of significance thus far. They'd also scanned the store and the bathrooms. Since then, they'd been tackling the overflowing dumpster, trying to scour it for evidence before the sun got any higher.

Catherine and Detective Brass stepped downwind from the odor.

She replied, "Of course. I have to admit that it's disturbing to investigate a crime when one of our own is involved. But, " she hesitated a moment then continued with determination, "we _want_ to do this."

Brass seemed satisfied. "Ok. Any idea when this happened?"

"Nick saw Sara leaving the lab around six a.m. yesterday at the end of her shift. She was scheduled for a week of vacation time, though she didn't mention to anyone at the lab whether she was actually going to be in town or away. If she was going away, it had to have been close since she only left her pager and cell phone number as contacts. That's all we have for now," Catherine explained.

_Come to think of it, that was kinda weird, both Sara and Grissom taking vacation time. They typically worked on their days off. Between the two of them, they probably had enough vacation time accrued to take off from Halloween to New Year's Day. If only that could be me, I'd sure know what to do with that kind of vacation time._

He tried to get a feeling about the crime. "Do you think she actually entered the store then got caught in the middle of a bad situation as she was leaving?"

Catherine shook her head. "No, there was no report of anything unusual happening in the store last night. We're analyzing some blood spots that we found just outside of the ladies's room. That may be where the assault took place. Perhaps she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, she saw something she wasn't supposed to in the parking lot and they were in a hurry to get rid of the witness."

Brass wondered, "Or maybe it was personal. Maybe she was assaulted somewhere else and then the perp brought her here to dump her body."

"Well, the evidence will tell us. We're working on it. Nick is speaking with the store manager about locating the clerks that worked at the store yesterday and obtaining the video surveillance tapes for us." Catherine added, "Her SUV wasn't on the scene so your boys are locating it for us."

Taking a break, Warrick joined the conversation, "We'd like to check out Sara's apartment to see if it can give us any clues. But hopefully, we can get more information from Sara herself first."

"I agree, let's hold off on that, for a little while anyway." Brass wanted to extend professional courtesy to his people as much as he could. He didn't want to violate their privacy unless it was warranted. "Is she still unconscious?" he asked.

"Yeah, they'll notify us when she comes to," Warrick explained.

"Sounds good." Brass stepped closer to examine the over flowing dumpster. "This thing hasn't been dumped in ages. Why today? Why did the garbage men finally come today?"

Catherine explained, "Big surprise, the owner of the store hadn't kept up with his trash fees. Guess he finally paid up after the neighbors started complaining."

Brass looked thoughtful, "Looks like Sara got lucky. A few more hours of exposure could've been fatal. Keep me posted." He started to leave then turned back to ask Catherine. "By the way, where's Gil? I'm sure he'll want to know about this."

"He's on vacation. I've tried his cell and pager a few times but I haven't gotten any answers." Catherine was concerned. This wasn't like Grissom. And if Sara was involved, she knew he'd want to know.

"Give the guy a break Catherine, he is on vacation," Warrick chided. "Maybe he got lucky and doesn't want to be disturbed?" he joked. He'd occasionally turned off his cell phone when he was involved with a special lady.

Catherine raised her eyebrows at the inappropriateness of the comment then mumbled, "It's just not like him to be out of touch."

"Try him later," Brass replied. "He'll want to know."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **As always, great to hear from all of you! Some of you have some very interesting ideas as to what is happening…

Chapter 3

Nick tried to muffle a chuckle as he and Detective Johnson began to interview the teenaged store clerk. He didn't know if it was the green spiked hair, the multiple body piercings, the caked on bright blue eye make up or talon like black nails, which amused him the most. Yet the scary looking teenager was clearly intimidated by the presence of a police officer at her home.

"What dija ya say?" she trembled.

Nick explained, "Look, you're not in any trouble. A woman was found by a dumpster in the back of your store this morning."

"Huh?" Her mouth hung open.

_This girl has clearly indulged in too many recreational drugs_.

"I just need to ask you some questions. You're not in any trouble." He tried to reassure her. He reached into a manila envelope as the teenager leaned against the doorframe of her apartment. He handed her a photo. "Did you see this woman in the convenience store during your shift last night?"

The teenager took the photo and examined it. She absently rubbed her temple. "I dunno. A lot of people come in from the movie twelveplex 'cross the street after the shows. I dunno."

Trying to be patient, Nick pressed on, "Just take a few minutes to think. Look at her face."

She tried to comply. Getting frustrated, she explained, "Look, nothin' happened last night. It's the same boring stuff every night. Nothin' was different. I spent most of my time readin'." She held up the equivalent of a graphic comic book.

As she continued to examine the photo, finally the lights seemed to come on. "Wait a minute. Yeah, I think I remember her. I guess it was around ten thirty. It was before the late movie crowd. Yeah, I do remember seeing her."

"Are you sure?" Nick asked, doubting her credibility.

"Yeah," the girl nodded. "I remember 'cause she was practically cryin'. She was pretty upset. I think I heard her say somethin' like "it's not fair"."

_Now we're getting somewhere. _

Nick's questions became more urgent. "Do you remember anything else she might've said?"

She shook her head.

"Was she alone or with someone?" Nick asked.

"There was some guy with her."

"Could you identify him or give me a general description?" Nick pressed on.

She squeezed her eyes closed as she thought. "I dunno, he was old so I didn't pay much attention." Any guy over thirty was old to her.

He prodded, "Come on, you must remember if he was tall or fat, balding or red hair -- general characteristics."

With great effort, she thought, "Um, I guess he was taller than she was. I think he had dark hair. Black? Maybe some gray? And maybe a beard? Yeah, a beard, I guess."

"You'll have to come down to the station with me to talk with the sketch artist." Nick insisted, though he wasn't hopeful from her vague description. The teenager wasn't thrilled by that prospect either. Nick continued, "Were they arguing? Did she seem afraid of him?"

"Nah, he wasn't mean to her. He was tryin' to calm her down. I don't remember what she bought. Sumthin'. Whatever it was, I remember that he gave her the money for it." She seemed proud of her recollection.

"Would there be duplicate registrar receipts at the store so we could verify what she purchased?"

Her eyebrows rose, "You gotta be kiddin'. Those guys are cheap. They spend as little as they can get away with. Those cheap bastards wouldn't even buy toilet paper for the bathrooms if they could get away with it."

With a sinking feeling, Nick asked, "What about the video surveillance system?"

She laughed, "I don't think so."

XXXXXXX

Greg strolled into the lab where Nick and Warrick were carefully sorting through evidence. The overflow trash and garbage from the dumpster were in bags which filled the room.

"Man, this place reeks." He held his nose and waved his hand. "Phew."

Warrick grinned, "Tell me about it. The scary part is after a while you get used to it. You can help sort through the trash later if you like."

Greg's expression was priceless. "I don't think so. I do come bearing gifts. DNA results from the blood found at the scene." He'd analyzed the DNA and run the results through the COTAS data bank.

He had everyone's attention as they gathered around to examine the print out. "It's Sara's."

Warrick turned to look at his schematic map of the crime scene. "All of it?"

Greg nodded.

"Then it looks like she must've been hit coming in or out of the ladies room, since that's were the majority of the blood splatter was," Warrick thought aloud.

"What about the ladies room itself?" Nick asked.

Warrick cringed. That hadn't been a pretty site. It hadn't been cleaned in a while. It looked worse than many men's rooms that he'd been in. Yet there was no blood in the sinks or on the floor. He'd checked the men's room as well. Tests with luminol were negative thus it seemed that the perp didn't clean up at the site. Still, whatever article he used to assault Sara may've been the only item that was bloodied.

"Nothing definitive," Warrick confirmed. "The splatter pattern, though faint, indicates that the attack was definitely just outside of the rest room. The pattern also suggests that she was standing when she was hit, possibly facing the parking lot though I need to check to be sure. The fact that there wasn't much blood there suggests that she may've been quickly moved to the trash area, there's much more blood there." Her T-shirt had been soaked in blood and a small pool of it had collected beneath her body.

"What else have you found?" Greg asked, eyeing the table strewn with potential evidence.

Nick gestured to a ragged blanket spread on the table. "This was what was covering Sara. It's Government Issue, standard for the armed services. We may be dealing with an enlisted man, veteran or former disillusioned employee of the US army. I'm thinking this blanket may've been stored in the back of a car or pick-up. Look, these might be oil stains. GC analysis is being done on them right now. And look at this." He used tweezers to hold up some short brown hair.

"The perp?" Greg got excited.

Warrick frowned, "I don't think so, it's dog hair. Possibly a German Shepard."

"What about this?" Greg gestured to the nearly empty duct tape roll.

"We found it along the curb at the store. I'm not sure where or if it fits in," Warrick answered. He hadn't had the time to process everything. He and Nick still needed to comb the mountains of garbage for the assault weapon and possibly identify what Sara had bought at the store. Since Greg had mentioned it, he gave the tape a cursory look.

Nick asked, "Did someone knock her out to steal her car? Why was she even there in the first place? It's not near her apartment. What did she have to stop for?"

Warrick interrupted, "Hey, did you notice that this duct tape roll has the same oily residue as our blanket? I may even be able to lift some prints off of this."

The men converged on the sample.

Nick was getting excited, "I think you may have something. Let's send a sample to the GC."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** As always, great to hear from you. Hmm, some of you have some interesting ideas about what's happening…

Chapter 4

Back in the conference room, the CSI team, with the exception of Sara and Grissom, gathered about the table to discuss the case

Catherine took the lead. "So what do we know?"

Nick had a bad feeling. "Look, Sara just took a week of vacation time. I think she has a new boyfriend." As if to explain himself, he said, "She seems happier these days." Back to business, he continued, "That clerk said she was upset and with a guy. Maybe her new boyfriend turned out to be a total loser. Maybe they got into a fight and his true colors came out."

He remembered Sara's trials with Hank. Maybe the poor girl was just unlucky. The memory of Sara's battered face bothered him immensely; he wanted to lash out at the person who did this to his friend.

"The other day she was wearing some classy jewelry, a heart shaped necklace with diamonds on it. Maybe he did turn out to be a creep." Warrick was getting angry as he spoke.

"Look at us," Catherine chastised. "We're professionals, we don't have to resort to office gossip. I know, we're all upset by this but let's do our job so we can help Sara."

Besides, she had her own suspicions about who this new boyfriend was and he would never in a million years do anything like this to her. Yet, he would also do everything in his power to be here now. His absence bothered her immensely. She'd been trying to contact him every hour on the hour, even when she'd been off duty. Where was he?

Her gut instincts were screaming that something was really wrong, but she needed evidence to support it before she could do anything substantial. She also didn't want to embarrass her friend on the off chance that she was mistaken.

She shook her head, astonished that the guys in her office could be so clueless about the people around them.

Catherine turned to Nick, " What personal effects were found at the hospital?"

All eyes turned to Nick. "Well, the diamond heart necklace is a fact, along with a few other metal rings. There was no wallet."

Catherine continued, "Her SUV wasn't found on the scene either. Any news on that? Could it possibly have been a robbery?"

Warrick shook his head; "We can rule that out, her SUV was located at the garage. She was getting her radiator fixed. The mechanic said that she wasn't in a hurry to get it back, so that might support the idea that she was leaving town with someone."

"Let's get back to the crime scene. What about the blood trail?" she asked Warrick

He shared their findings about the blood trail, the blanket and the duct tape.

"Sounds promising, let me know when you get more data. Can we ID this guy who was in the store with Sara?"

Nick shook his head sadly, "Not based on that clerk's recollection." The session with the sketch artist had been a washout. "What about the semen, Greg? Any luck there?"

Greg shook his head. "As the doctor predicted, insufficient amounts."

Warrick started to question this, when Greg insisted, "You don't wanna know, trust me."

"Can we trust the clerk's identification of Sara?" Catherine asked.

Nick answered, "Not one hundred percent. However, it places Sara in the store around ten thirty p.m., which coincides with the doctor's estimated time of her injury."

"What about video surveillance?"

Nick laughed sarcastically. "As the clerk said, these guys were super cheap, it was a dummy camera with a battery and a blinking light."

They'd all seen that one too many times. It just made their jobs a little more challenging.

"Okay, boyfriend or no boyfriend, this guy is the last person seen with Sara. So he's either a witness or the perp. We need to figure out who this guy is. Warrick, since Sara is still unconscious, why don't you check out her apartment and get any information you can from her neighbors. For the rest of us, let's get back to the evidence and look for more clues."

As they filed out of the conference room, a third disturbing possibility crossed Catherine's mind.

He could be another victim.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** I'm fascinated by all of your suggestions. Here's more factors to consider… BTW, while I usually writer huge chapters, I made these shorter on purpose, to enhance the summer reading experience and to attempt to build up more suspense.

Chapter 5

_I know, I'm being paranoid. But he's my friend and something's not right._

Catherine had just left work. Since she'd put in so much overtime, it was relatively early, for her timetable. It was only eight o'clock. She was exhausted yet instead of driving home, she was going thirty minutes out of her way to cruise by Grissom's town house.

_Where could he be?_

She wasn't sure what she was hoping to find. If he'd gone fishing or to one of his entomology conventions, she'd just see an empty condo. But she wasn't going to just drive by.

Many years ago, when Eddy had been so abusive to her, Grissom had given her a key to his townhouse so she'd have a safe place for she and Lindsay, just in case. Thankfully she'd never had to use it, yet she'd never gotten around to returning it, and Grissom had forgotten all about it. Hopefully he wouldn't consider this an abuse of his trust.

She pulled into his driveway. No SUV. He too left only his pager and cell phone numbers so if he was going away, it wasn't far.

Feeling guilty, she walked up the front sidewalk. Was she snooping? What did she hope to find? However, any information could be helpful. After taking a breath, she used her key to open the door.

She hadn't been here for a while. Grissom had a bizarre sense of style but it suited him. Bookshelves filled to overflowing were everywhere. His walls were covered with displays of insects, moths, and butterflies. He even had little containers of bugs, some dead and some very much alive. She steered clear of them.

On an odd impulse, she tried his cell phone again. Seven rings later, no pick up.

_Where are you Grissom?_

The kitchen was clean and there weren't any notations on the calendar by the phone. Neither was there any vacation information on his overflowing desk, which was piled high with magazines.

_How many bug and forensic journals can one guy read?_

His bathroom provided some answers for her secondary questions. She knew Grissom was unusual but he certainly didn't wear women's makeup or perfume, which were on the vanity counter. And he definitely had no need for the tampons she found underneath the sink. Her trained investigator's eye recognized a shoulder-length dark hair on the bathroom floor.

Catherine smiled, she'd suspected as much. They'd been getting along so much better these days, working on cases together, and even joking around with each other. The horrible friction that existed between them for over a year was gone. She'd wanted to ask Gil about it, but sensed that it would be overstepping the boundaries of their friendship. His personal life was unapproachable, and thus that was partly why she was walking on eggshells about her suspicions.

No doubt about it, they both seemed much happier these days. And now she knew why.

She hurried to the bedroom to confirm her findings. A section of his closet was set aside for some women's clothes. She even had a few drawers in the dresser; Catherine recognized some of the clothing.

_So they are together. But that doesn't prove that they were with each other that night or that he's in danger. He could still be at a conference and just forgotten to charge his phone. Where is he?_

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Jim, can you put out an APB on Grissom's SUV? I still can't reach him. I know it hasn't even been twenty-four hours and I don't want to disturb him on vacation but something's not right. "

She listened. "Thanks Jim, I'll take the heat for this if I'm wrong. Call me when you get any information. I want to follow it up personally."

XXXXXXX

Warrick was slouched in front of the computer, pausing to rub his eyes. Although they'd scoured the crime scene, including the dumpster, for the possible assault weapon, they had yet to identify it. He was playing around with computer simulations. He'd scanned photos of Sara's facial injuries into a computer program so he could run tests to determine what may've been used to assault her. After forty-five minutes, he didn't have a definitive answer but he felt he was making some headway, so he kept plugging away.

A lab technician interrupted him. "Hey, I was able to ID the fingerprint you gave me."

Warrick gratefully rose from the computer to follow the tech into another lab to examine her computer terminal. A graphic of the fingerprint obtained from the duct tape roll was on the left side of the screen. On the other side, was its mate. Someone named Marcus Hayes.

"Who is this guy?" he was dying to know. "Is he in the system?"

"It's on screen," the tech replied. The report read:

Marcus Hayes 

**DOB 1966**

**Served in the US army: 1986-1993, Gulf war veteran**

**Vehicle registered: 1997 Ford Sonoma Plate SYN 223**

**Current address rural Rt 6 Henderson NV**

**Record: convicted 1995 robbery - served 3 years **

**Petty larceny - community service**

**1985 robbery - fine**

**1984 robbery- fine**

"Hmm, the vehicle and the army record are a possible fit but not the MO. The store wasn't robbed. He doesn't have a record for violent crimes."

Warrick made a quick phone call to contact one of the detectives to arrange for questioning the suspect and for a warrant to search his truck.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N **I'm overwhelmed by all your kind reviews, thanks so much. I also appreciate you pointing out minor errors or inconsistencies in the story – thanks a lot! I think you'll find today's chapter very interesting.

Chapter 6

It was early, only 10 am. Usually Catherine was asleep by now. Yet as usual, her schedule was all messed. While she'd been looking forward to catching up on her rest before her evening shift, Brass called. They'd located Grissom's Denali.

As she sped over to the location, Nick called to update her about the case. It seemed that everyone was working overtime on this one. Unfortunately, Sara was still unconscious, but stable. Currently Warrick and Nick were analyzing their findings from the search of Marcus Hayes' Ford Sonoma. They'd discovered an unregistered handgun, a felony for an ex-con. He also was the proud owner of a fiercely loyal German Shepard. But even more interesting, they'd found evidence of human blood, and they were able to obtain sufficient amounts for DNA analysis.

He told her about the fingerprint match, and the motor oil that conclusively linked the blanket and the duct tape roll, which led them to the suspect. Hopefully they'd get some answers soon.

_Hayes, Marcus Hayes that sounds familiar. _

But she couldn't jog her memory. She was anxious to see what the guys uncovered.

A sense of urgency drove her, as she pressed down harder on the accelerator. She could've let the uniformed policeman check out the scene. Yet, if she was in error, she alone wanted to take full responsibility.

As she approached the elaborate house corresponding to the address that she'd been given, she felt a chill go through her entire body.

_Please, I don't want to be right. But I don't think he's here._

She got out to meet with the detective, who escorted her into the house. These people were very well off. Objects d'art and antiques crowded the living room. Presumably the owners greeted them and lead them to a much less formal family room where two anxious teenaged boys waited. One swallowed nervously and the other looked like he was going to pass out.

Upon seeing the detective and Catherine, one blurted out, "We didn't mean to cause any trouble."

One of the parents gave a stern look. "Listen to the detective and tell them what they need to know."

"I don't want to go to jail," the other shaggy haired boy cried.

Catherine took charge of the scene. "Bill?" she asked the detective, "Could you possibly interview the parents in another room?" She felt that it might be easier to get information from the boys that way. When the parents reluctantly left with the detective, Catherine sat down by the boys.

"Okay, what's the story? Tell it right the first time and maybe you won't get in trouble."

"You'd fix things with our parents?" The older boy with shorter hair was astounded.

She laughed, "I don't have that kind of power. I meant the police. Tell me how you got the vehicle."

The younger one nodded to the older one to tell the story. He was nervous too.

"Well, there was this really cool movie out Tuesday night so we went to see it. And we met these two older girls there who were really into it too."

He sounded so surprised, this must not happen much for them. Catherine wasn't stunned, for neither of the two lanky boys struck her as potential ladies' men.

He continued, "Anyway, after the movie, the girls followed us out of the theater. We didn't want to seem like a bunch of babies calling mommy for a ride home, so we started walking together. We crossed the street to the convenience store where the girls bought cigarettes. Mark and I waited in the parking lot. Then Mark noticed that SUV had the keys on the driver's seat, so we….you know…"

"Trying to impress your dates?"

"You know what it's like. You got wheels, you're somebody," he pitifully explained.

"Why didn't you drive your own car to the movies?" Catherine wondered, certain that his wealthy parents had bought him one.

With a sheepish expression, he relayed, "My mom took away my keys until I improve my calculus grade."

"So you went for a little joy ride. Then what did you do?"

"Well, once the girls realized that we had wheels, they went back into the store and managed to get some beer. Guess they had fake IDs or something. Anyway, we drove to a spot down the road off highway 10 to party for a few hours. After we dropped the girls off, we parked the SUV out back in the barn so mom and dad wouldn't see it."

"I take it, they found it."

They nodded, with grim expressions.

"What else did you find in the vehicle?" Catherine pressed.

"I don't remember. There might've been some stuff on the passenger's seat but I just shoved it out of the way. We weren't really going to steal the car, just borrow it for a while," he stammered, trying to get out of trouble.

"Yeah, but it's tricky to return it, huh?" Catherine grinned, pretending to be sympathetic to their plight.

"That's right," he agreed.

After the interview was completed, Catherine was shown the way to the barn to examine Grissom's SUV. Upon opening the passenger side door, several empty beer bottles tumbled out. She coughed; it reeked of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Then she sighed, thinking of the potentially compromised evidence.

_Where was Grissom's stuff? _

She thought a moment. If she were one of those kids, she wouldn't care about his things; she'd stash them in the trunk, just to get them out of the way. She walked to the rear of the vehicle to carefully unlatch the hatch.

Bingo. Everything she needed to see was before her eyes. A lump caught in her throat as her cell phone rang.

"Willows," she coughed as she answered automatically.

"Cath, it's Nick. Grissom's in trouble."

She was stunned. "I'm starring at the evidence right now. How did you know?"

"We positively identified his blood in the back of Marcus Hayes' Ford Sonoma."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Only two chapters left! Thanks for all the support! 

Chapter 7

"So Marcus, can you explain why we found a Crime Lab supervisor's blood in the back of your truck?" Brass asked the man seated across the table from him. Sometimes the direct approach worked best, especially with this type of wise guy who'd given them nothing but lip thus far.

"Maybe your lab made a mistake. They do that all the time," he sneered.

Marcus had the build of a former athlete who'd imbibed one beer too many over the past years, his once well-muscled physique was becoming slack. Most likely he'd never gotten very far in sports with his disrespectful attitude. Brass wondered how he survived his short stint with the military. Perhaps prison had refined his cruder attributes.

"Yeah? You think that's funny? Well, this mistake could have you going back to prison. Not so funny now, huh?" Brass replied dryly.

He wasn't bothered in the least. "You don't have anything on me."

Unfortunately, there was some truth to that. Although the duct tape and blanket were conclusively linked to his truck and to the crime scene, and the blood evidence was credible, they'd need more to build a case and convince a jury.

However, that wasn't their main priority at the moment. Right now they urgently needed to learn why Gil Grissom had been in the back of his truck, and his current location. He'd been missing for over twenty-four hours. Was he alive? Or, God forbid, where had his body been dumped? They couldn't afford to play these maddening games much longer.

Nick was silently fuming, ready to throttle this arrogant man. He was desperate to pry some information out of him; he was more than willing to use his fists if he had too, to hell with the rules and regulations. Marcus's innocent act had worn thin very quickly. Yet Brass sensed Nick's impatience and he silently reassured him with a glance to keep his cool.

"You do realize that possession of a weapon violates your parole agreement? Unless you can help us out with this…unpleasantness, then maybe we can work something out." Brass offered, seeing if he would jump at the bait.

"Not interested."

It seemed as if they'd reached an impasse, Marcus sitting with his self-satisfied smirk while Grissom's life could potentially be hanging on every wasted moment. Nick tightened his fists with frustration.

Just then, the door to the room was flung open. Warrick dashed over, panting since he ran down the hallway. He handed a folder over to Nick and Brass, which they eagerly opened and scanned.

Brass looked up at Marcus and grinned. "You wouldn't know anything about Isaac Hayes, your cousin, would you?"

There was a flicker in his impenetrable façade. "Haven't seen him."

"Try it again buddy, we have videotape of you picking him up for his release from a Nevada correctional facility just last week. What was he in for? Multiple homicides?"

His arrogant front was weakening. "That's what you people claimed. You set him up. His lawyers finally fixed your mistakes."

Brass was almost pleased to remind him. "You know the time for assault and assisting with a kidnapping or even murder is significantly more then a parole violation. Especially if the victims are affiliated with the Las Vegas Police Department."

Nick and Brass exchanged triumphant looks as they noticed beads of sweat forming on Marcus's forehead. They'd get what they needed after all.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Who is Isaac Hayes? Inquiring minds are dying to know," Greg asked as Catherine floored the accelerator on the Denali, taking the sharp turns on the country road to the Hayes family's crude mountain cabin as smoothly as any Nascar driver.

Although the presence of the entire night shift technically wasn't required, no one wanted to be stuck anxiously waiting around the lab for spotty updates. Their supervisor's life could be in serious jeopardy so they had to be there to help in whatever manner they could. Catherine, Warrick, Nick and Greg all climbed into one vehicle and took off shortly after Brass and several other uniformed officers raced ahead. A special hostage negotiation team was being relayed via helicopter, along with paramedics, to a landing pad in the vicinity of the site, though not too close, they didn't want to attract Isaac's attention and lose the element of surprise.

Even though he claimed he played a relatively minor role in the incident, once Marcus realized that the evidence clearly tied him into the crime and that continuing to protect his cousin would have dire repercussions for him, he wised up. While he was halting with the details, he gave the investigators sufficient information to quickly convey the basic idea as to what had happened that evening at the convenience store.

Sensing he was in for serious time, his strong instinct for self-preservation lead him to uncharacteristically offer his full cooperation in exchange for leniency in his sentencing. He even proposed to negotiate with his cousin to release Grissom, an offer that the police felt leery about considering. Yet they'd brought him along, just in case.

"Marcus is a choir boy compared to Isaac. Isaac, now he was a piece of work," Catherine shuddered. It hadn't even been her case but she remembered those soul-less green eyes.

"Yeah, he was a true sociopath. It was our case. Grissom and I investigated him, but it was several years ago, so Grissom took the lead. I don't understand why this guy should be back out in society, he was one disturbing character," Warrick recalled.

"The recent update in his file indicated that his lawyers finally got him off on a minor legal technicality. It figures," Nick relayed with disgust.

"This guy was convinced that we'd rigged the evidence to set him up. He was hostile towards us during the investigation, he even threatened Grissom in the hallway at the courthouse." Warrick shook his head. "No way in hell we'd do that. Our work was solid. Any jury in the country would've convicted him based on that evidence."

A bit apprehensively, Greg asked, "What exactly did he do?"

"Let's just say that people, such as former employers or rivals who got in his way, somehow managed to mysteriously disappear. A few body parts washing up down the river prompted the investigation," Warrick remembered.

"I can't believe he's out on the street," Nick was dismayed. "What does this say about our justice system?"

No one particularly cared to answer the question. They all were preoccupied, wondering what this violent man had done to Grissom, but they were loath to put those fears into words. It wouldn't change anything either so they bravely sought to keep those feelings safely bottled up. Besides, they needed to maintain their professional objectivity to be effective, to do their jobs.

Greg was brimming with questions for he wasn't around during the original case. He wanted to be able to prepare himself mentally for whatever atrocity they might be facing. Yet he also sensed the reluctance of the group so he attempted to slightly change the focus. "Do we know if Marcus and Isaac planned this caper or was it a spur of the moment type thing?"

Nick commented, "Purely dumb luck if you ask me."

"So what actually happened that night?" Greg couldn't let it go. He needed to put the pieces together. He hadn't been in the interrogation room or behind the observation glass when Marcus confessed. He was missing vital information.

Nick took a breath and explained, "Grissom was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Marcus and Isaac pulled into the convenience store parking lot and just happened to recognize him. After Issac had been stewing in his own juices in maximum-security prison, so-called wrongly accused, for over seven years, seeing Grissom triggered an almost instantaneous visceral response in him. He wanted revenge. It wasn't hard to talk his wayward cousin into helping him. They were armed so they subdued him, and then used duct tape from the back of the pickup truck to bind his feet and hands. Then they shoved him in the back of the truck and took off. Grissom must've hit his head when he contacted the truck bed, we think that's where his blood came from."

"So how does Sara's assault fit in? How did you connect it with Grissom's abduction? Call me stupid but if those two are really dating, how could we _all_ miss that?" Greg was still confused.

Catherine took exception with his statement. "_I_ didn't. But, I wasn't completely sure. They're such private people, of course they'd be discrete, and they wouldn't want to flaunt it."

"But how did you know? You knew even before I told you about Grissom's blood in Marcus's truck," Nick realized.

"It wasn't easy. I suspected but I didn't want to be wrong. I had to be sure. That's why I waited. I hope I didn't…" She swallowed hard then continued, "His car was all I needed. It had both of their suitcases, and her wallet."

Nick mused, "I don't get it. What happened? If Grissom and Sara were going away together, why did they stop so close to home? It doesn't make any sense."

"Unless they forgot something," Warrick suggested.

"I found out what she bought. It was in a bag with the receipt in Gil's car. Tampons. And one was missing from the box." Catherine pointed out.

"Okay…" Nick wasn't following her reasoning.

She spelled it out for him. "If you were going away with your girlfriend on a romantic week long vacation, how would you feel if she got her period?"

Now it made sense to Nick. "Not so hot."

"That's why she was upset!" Greg finally understood.

Catherine continued to illuminate the male members of her party. "And that's why Grissom went in the store with her. She forgot her wallet in the car, so he paid for the tampons. Then she probably went to the ladies room on the side of the store afterwards and Gil waited outside of the car for her, rather than in the car, since she was so upset."

Greg filled in the blanks, "Then when the Hayes brothers pull up, they happen to see Grissom, just by accident."

"Sure, that's what Marcus told us," Nick confirmed.

"And in the process of subduing Grissom, Sara walks out of the bathroom," Greg continued.

"So they quickly eliminate the witness and hide her body. Although Marcus conveniently neglected to mention it, my analysis indicates that they hit Sara in the face with a rifle butt, possibly a semi-automatic weapon. And that rifle is most likely still in the possession of Isaac Hayes," Warrick grimly noted.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Well, it's the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it. This has been tons of fun – thanks again for all your support. 

Chapter 8

The ramshackle log cabin had a large front porch, and was surrounded by tall pines, so the law enforcement officials had sufficient cover to stealthily approach the building. The CSIs remained down the road, hidden by trees, anxiously waiting.

Catherine bit her lip then nervously asked Brass, "Do you think he's…alive?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. God I hope so. My impression is that Isaac wanted to taunt Grissom, to make him suffer needlessly the way he felt that he suffered in prison. So keeping him alive would suit those purposes. However, this guy isn't exactly known for his self control."

After listening to the reports from the officers, Brass explained to the CSIs, "They've confirmed that Isaac is in there. They can also see Grissom through a window, but they can't tell if he's alive or not." He put on a bulletproof vest and grabbed a bullhorn. "Wish me luck."

Brass approached the cabin, and stood near an abandoned rusty vehicle which was most likely used for spare parts; he was in plain sight of the porch. Using the bullhorn, he announced, "Isaac Hayes, we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up."

There was no response. The sharp shooters began to angle for a vantage point to take out Isaac, if necessary.

Brass attempted to reason with him, if such a thing was possible. "If your hostage is still alive, your sentence will be lighter." He briefly considered discussing the consequences if Grissom was already dead, but he didn't want to add any fuel to that fire, or actively acknowledge that possibility.

Marcus, handcuffed to a uniformed officer, approached Brass. "Let me try."

"Any funny stuff and you go away for a very long time," Brass sternly reminded him in a tone that would brook no nonsense.

Using the bullhorn, Marcus said, "Isaac, it's over man. Get out before you make it worse."

Apparently Isaac was rational enough to listen to his cousin's advice. The door to the cabin opened and he stepped out, unarmed, with his hands above his head. Uniformed officers swarmed on him, roughly hand cuffing him and reading his rights while others, along with the paramedics raced into the cabin. Catherine and the others were not far behind.

The sight that greeted them wasn't pretty. The air reeked of stale beer, cigarettes, sweat, and other bodily fluids. Beer bottles, cigarette butts and empty junk food wrappers littered the floor. Greg nearly tripped over a sleeping bag on the floor, which Isaac must've crashed on.

Yet all that paled in comparison to the condition of their supervisor. He'd been bound to a chair with rope and terribly abused. As Brass suspected, Isaac wanted Grissom to fully experience suffering, rather than simply kill him out of anger. His clothing was torn, angry rope abrasions and huge bruises covered his body. His hands had been badly burned. His right arm hung in a fashion that clearly revealed it was broken. His breathing was uneven, indicating that he was in a lot of pain. Most disconcerting were his eyes. Catherine shoved her way past the paramedics, trying to speak to him.

"Gil, are you alright? We're here. You're going to be ok. Talk to me."

He didn't react to their presence, seemingly withdrawn deep within himself. His eyes stared wildly ahead, not focusing on anything.

The paramedics conveyed him to the helicopter to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible.

XXXXXXXXXX

Grissom was lying in a hospital bed, his right arm in a cast and his damaged ribs bound tightly. An IV drip was hooked up to his left arm. His hands had sustained severe burns so they were covered with patches of gauze. His face was swollen with multiple cuts and bruises. He was asleep.

Exhausted, Catherine finally allowed herself to collapse into a chair beside the bed. She covered her face with her hands, fighting the emotions that threatened to erupt.

It's my fault. If I had the guts to say something earlier, if I hadn't been so worried about offending Gil, we would've found him earlier. That bastard wouldn't have broken him. I'll never forgive myself if he's permanently damaged.

Warrick silently slid beside her. Putting his hand on Catherine's shoulder, he softly reassured her, "Hey, he's alive. He's strong. He'll make it."

"You didn't see his eyes. It was like there was nobody inside of him," Catherine began to shake slightly as his grip on her shoulder became tighter.

"The doctors told us that withdrawing like that is a normal coping mechanism under such duress. He said that many people have been able to bounce back after these types of experiences," Warrick assured her. "It just takes time."

"God, I hope so," Catherine sniffed, a tear trickling down her cheek.

Warrick caught on to her inner dilemma. "Don't blame yourself Cath, even if you suspected Grissom was in trouble, we wouldn't have been able to locate him any sooner. Don't do this. He's gonna be alright." He continued to knead her shoulder with his fingers. To attempt to distract her, he mentioned, "Hey, there's good news. Sara is awake and alert. It'll take some time for her to recover but she's going to be okay. She's trying to convince her doctors to let Nick and Greg bring her over here to see Grissom."

"Is that a good idea?" Grissom's appearance troubled her, what would it do to Sara?

"I think she'll be relieved to see him alive," Warrick carefully suggested.

Grissom stirred and the two stepped closer to his bed.

"Gil, are you okay?" Catherine pleaded.

He opened his eyes and cautiously examined his surroundings.

Catherine's breath caught in her throat. While he was obviously groggy, his eyes were more focused than before.

"C'mon Gil, speak to me," she urged.

Grissom 's gaze lingered on Catherine and Warrick's faces. He smiled briefly, appearing to recognize them. All too soon, his smile faded and he sadly murmured, almost to himself, " No, it's not real, not real."

Catherine turned to Warrick, who answered, "He may've been having delusions, seeing people that weren't really there. It's all part of the syndrome the doctor said."

"We _are_ real Gil." Catherine insisted as she tried to grab his forearm to prove it, but Grissom yanked it back, trembling with fear.

She was upset by his response. "It's me Gil. I don't want to hurt you. You're in the hospital. Isaac is going to jail for a very long time. You're safe now."

A nurse rushed into the room to attempt to check Grissom's vital signs but any human contact was greatly upsetting him. He was panicking, starting to thrash around, almost pulling out his IV in the process. He screamed, "No, leave me alone!"

They were afraid that he was going to harm himself. With great difficulty and the help of two other people, the nurse gave him a sedative and then she advised them, "He needs to rest. Why don't you get something to eat and come back later?"

Several hours later, Catherine and Warrick returned. They'd dropped by their respective homes to shower and freshen up, putting on clean clothes, and then they stopped at a diner for some sandwiches. When they first arrived at the hospital, they dropped by Sara's room and visited with her for a while. Although they didn't want to discuss it, Sara relentlessly grilled them about Grissom's condition. She was anxious to see him. They promised her they would check up on him and personally bring her over whenever he was able to handle visitors.

Grissom was asleep when they entered his room. Catherine and Warrick worried about his recovery time. They weren't going to be able to put Sara off much longer, she was ready to steal a wheelchair and find his room by herself.

Fortunately, he stirred within several minutes of their arrival. His eyes came open and he appeared to recognize them.

"Gil," Catherine pushed her chair closer to the bed. "You're in the hospital. It's over. You're going to be okay now."

He seemed confused, but he wasn't denying their existence, which was a good sign. It was taking him time to process things.

As he became more alert he asked, with great concern. "Sara? Where's Sara?"

"She's okay Gil. She sustained several injuries but she's going to be alright," Catherine explained.

"She's not dead? They told me that they killed her," his anguished voice relayed.

"No, she's coming to see you real soon." Catherine gestured to Warrick to contact Nick and Greg to have them bring Sara over as soon as possible.

Grissom wanted to be sure that he understood what was going on. "You sure?"

"Absolutely," Catherine grinned.

Seemingly satisfied, Grissom wearily closed his eyes again.

An hour later, Nick and Greg entered the room, pushing Sara in a wheelchair. Her face was heavily bandaged and what little pieces of flesh poked through were purple and blue. Catherine and Warrick stepped back to allow the guys to push her chair next to Grissom's bed. Then Catherine immediately insisted that they all leave the room before Sara woke Grissom, suspecting that this would be both a very private and emotional moment for the two of them.

Of course, being who she was, Catherine wasn't content to wait in the hallway for long. After a decent interval, she managed to creep into the doorway of his room. Somehow, Sara had managed to pull herself out of her wheelchair and now she was perched on the edge of Grissom's bed. He was sitting up, holding her, with her head leaning against his chest. They weren't saying anything, just holding each other, clinging tightly.

Catherine smiled then left them alone.

THE END


End file.
